Friday, November 27, 2009

The Case Against Having Nice Things And A Small Child

Last night, we spent Thanksgiving at my good friend’s house. Dinner was lovely, the company was lovely, and not having to do the cooking and cleaning afterwards was also lovely.

Once things were cleared away, all the kids were running around screaming, yelling, and getting into (and out of) things, while the adults either played Monopoly or caught up on some must-see TV.

As I sat there relaxing, my son’s face popped into my head randomly. Usually at my friend’s house, I’m not worried about where my son is because more often than not, one of her three daughters’ will have Monkey in check. But the hackles on my neck were raised, so I looked over in the general direction of where he might have been, and saw some Bad News happening in real time: Monkey had his powdered formula container and was shaking it like a champagne bottle at the World Series.

*Sob*

I did what I could to help and swept most of it up. Then my friend - who did not seem to flinch at the site of powdered milk all over her foyer - vacuumed it up like it was nothing. Um, mortified, much?

Anyway, after some time, we called it a night and drove home, happy, full, and carefree. That is, until we got home and saw the real damage of the Bad News: Monkey also sprayed the Powder Love inside everything in his diaper bag… and all over my beloved purse and Blackberry.

Interesting Fact Number One: Did you know that powdered formula is sticky, even when dry? And even when a brush or towel passes over it (or you turn blue from trying to blow it off), it refuses to budge?

Interesting Fact Number Two: Did you know that even though you may think you are making your life easier by putting your purse and phone in a large canvas bag (so as to be able to carry a bunch of other things at the same time), that same canvas bag also doubles as a Death Trap for said items?

It’s midnight as I write this and I am still trying to get bits of formula out of the crevices of my purse and phone’s speaker. It’s worse than sand! But at least sand, when dry, will fall off. This stuff is dry and sticking to everything. I’m so afraid of my purse getting ruined. Don’t even get me started on my phone.

And this is why I can’t have nice things. Because even when I vow to take care of my things, there is a little boy who lives in my house that doesn’t recognize vows. Or rules. Or order.

So, there are only three ways I can protect the nice things we have from being ruined:

  1. Lock them up in a hermetically sealed vault, never to see the light of day – that is, until Monkey turns thirty
  2. Lock Monkey up in a hermetically sealed vault, never to see the light of day – that is, until Monkey turns thirty
  3. Do not have nice things until Monkey turns thirty

I. Want. To. Cry.

7 comments:

Alicia said...

Oh yah...I hear ya on that, Jennifer!!

I JUST started getting myself nice things...lol.

I hope you're able to get all the gunk out of your BB!!!

Buckeroomama said...

No nice things for me until Z turns 30. Only 28 more years to go... By then, I might not need or even want nice things...

Jessica said...

Nice things...
What's that?

My kids are grown to teenagers now. When the were little the squirted all my perfume out, made mountains with a whole bag of sugar, and colored the walls.

Now that they are older...
My girls "borrow all my clothes", I can never find my socks, and someone always drinks my soda.

I guess moms give up the nice things for at least 18 years.

ZenMom said...

Boy can I relate to this post. My youngest has an uncanny knack for finding anything of mine that is new, cherished or expensive and ruining it.

Great post. It made me laugh.

Kristen Andrews said...

Will is 4 and in the last week has broken two lamps and the phone cord

Zeemaid said...

sigh I so hear you on this one. My house used to be so pretty too. sigh. ;)

hope your phone recovers!

Nap Warden said...

"Do not have nice things until Monkey turns thirty"...this is my plan of attack;)

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